If you spend any time in church-related settings with Mormons — members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints — it won’t be long before you hear phrases like this:
That last one is scripture for us.
What do we mean when we say our Church is true? What don’t we mean? Should you be offended, if you’re not a Mormon?
My aim at Bendable Light, when I write about faith and religion, is not to proselyte. It is to explore and explain — and sometimes that may mean to defend.
My convictions are real, and they inform much of what is and will be written here. However, they do not stop me from probing my own faith for meaning, connections, and implications. Rather the opposite. If I recognize something as truth, I am far more motivated to explore it, understand it, and test its applications and limitations.
Some people act differently in these matters, I know. When they embrace a truth, they prefer to protect it from scrutiny, at least in their own minds. But I think truth is more robust than that.
You may choose belief, doubt, skepticism, or diametrically opposite convictions from mine. Still we may find some value in our discussions, despite — perhaps even because of — our differences.
I was looking for some things C. S. Lewis said on praying for people we don’t like, including tyrants, for something over at FreedomHabit.com, when I encountered these gems:
The last of these suggests a good goal: to become a good seed, “worth burying,” before I am buried.
It’s natural to wonder: in the endless list of things I could or should be doing, what would most please the Lord?
Micah first puts the question in the Mosaic language of animal sacrifices and consecrated oil:
Wherewith shall I come before the LORD, and bow myself before the high God? shall I come before him with burnt offerings, with calves of a year old?
Will the LORD be pleased with thousands of rams, or with ten thousands of rivers of oil?
He is asking, how would the Lord have me worship him?
He asks again, in chilling and poetic words, suggesting now that his desire is to be forgiven:
Shall I give my firstborn for my transgression, the fruit of my body for the sin of my soul?
In four different ways Micah has asked, what can I give to the Lord? Then he offers an answer that is as perfectly suited to our time and place as it was to his. He says – asks, really –
He hath shewed thee, O man, what is good; and what doth the LORD require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God? (Micah 6:6-8).
Do justly, love mercy, walk humbly. If that doesn’t please the Lord, what will? And if we fail in these things, will anything else really please him?
After calling down fire from heaven, Elijah commanded 450 false priests to be slain. King Ahab’s wife, Jezebel, was enraged and swore to kill Elijah. Elijah fled to the wilderness “and sat down under a juniper tree: and requested for himself that he might die” (1 Kings 19:4).
Rather than rebuking the prophet for a bad attitude – wanting to give up and die after a glorious miracle – the Lord sent help. An angel brought Elijah food and water for 40 days, until he had hiked to Mount Horeb and settled in a cave.
Eventually, the Lord asked, “What doest thou here, Elijah?” Still discouraged and depressed, Elijah explained how hard he had worked and how badly things had gone, then complained that he was the last righteous person in Israel (1 Kings 19:10).
The Lord invited him outside to observe a wind, an earthquake, a fire, and finally a still small voice (1 Kings 19:11-12). He repeated his question, and Elijah repeated his complaint.
Still the Lord did not rebuke him. Instead, he said there were 7000 faithful people in Israel. He put Elijah back to work, sending him to anoint two kings and to call and train Elisha to replace him several years hence (1 Kings 19:15-18).
I conclude that the Lord is more interested in helping us through our bad days and weeks than rebuking us, even when our attitude decays. He is patient, helpful, and kind.
One verse of a favorite modern psalm begins, “Praise to the Lord! Oh, let all that is in me adore him!” (“Praise to the Lord,” Hymns, 1985, #72).
When we pray, we routinely thank God for blessings and ask for more, for ourselves and others; we may not even think of praising him. At least we do some of that when we sing.
Like modern hymns, the Psalms are heartfelt expressions of praise, among other things, written in poetry which partially survives translation. For example, Psalm 100 – affectionately called “Old Hundredth” in some Christian circles – is subtitled, “A Psalm of Praise.” It reads:
Make a joyful noise unto the Lord, all ye lands. Serve the Lord with gladness: come before his presence singing. . . . Enter into his gates with thanksgiving, and into his courts with praise: be thankful unto him, and bless his name. For the Lord is good; his mercy is everlasting; and his truth endureth to all generations.
The last Psalm in the book urges us thirteen times to praise the Lord. This psalm and the book end with these words:
Let everything that hath breath praise the Lord. Praise ye the Lord. (Psalm 150:6)
Here’s a thought: If the Psalms don’t make us want to praise the Lord, we’re probably reading them wrong.
When Samuel heard his name one night, he thought Eli was calling him. He answered, “Here am I.” Eli had not called; he sent Samuel back to bed. It happened again and again. Finally, Eli said it must be the Lord, and Samuel should say next time, “Speak, Lord; for thy servant heareth.” Samuel obeyed, and marvels followed. (See 1 Samuel 3:1-10.)
Long before Samuel, Abraham, Jacob, and Moses answered in turn, when the Lord called: “Here am I” (Exodus 3:1-4; Genesis 22:11; 31:11; 46:2).
In the Hebrew Bible, what Samuel, Moses, Abraham, and Jacob said, when the Lord called, was “hineni” (pronounced “hee-NAY-ee” or “hee-nen-EE,” depending on which rabbi is reading which verse).
Besides mere presence or location, hineni suggests devotion, service, and determination. Hineni implies what Samuel said the fourth time: “Speak, Lord, for thy servant heareth.” Samuel was listening, and he was the Lord’s willing servant. I’m told that hineni also suggests, “This is where I take a stand. This is what I stand for.”
So I ask myself, and you could ask yourself, Is the Church just a nice place to spend time on Sunday? Or do I present myself there, as God’s willing servant? What of my prayers, my neighborhood, my home? Am I just there, or am I the Lord’s willing and obedient servant there?
My neighbor and I are writing short columns for our monthly ward (congregation) newsletter, focusing on the Old Testament and related scripture in 2014. This is one such column, as previously published there.
The Law of Moses is a lower law, compared to the Gospels’ higher law, but the higher law’s highest principles are in the lower law, as well.
Jesus identified the two greatest commandments (Matthew 22:35-40; see also D&C 59:5-6), quoting the Old Testament: “Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thine heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy might” (Deuteronomy 6:5). “Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself” (Leviticus 19:18).
Other Mosaic verses add helpful insight.
“The Lord your God proveth you, to know whether ye love [him] with all your heart and … soul” (Deuteronomy 13:3). God also helps us to love him that much, “that thou mayest live” (Deuteronomy 30:6).
Besides loving our neighbors, we are to treat strangers and outsiders as our own. In Exodus we read, “Thou shalt neither vex a stranger, nor oppress him” – and, as if to show us that he doesn’t just mean fellow believers from out of town, the Lord continues, “for ye were strangers in the land of Egypt” (22:21). Leviticus adds, “The stranger that dwelleth with you shall be as one born among you, and thou shalt love him as thyself; for ye were strangers in the land of Egypt” (19:33-34).
These ancient commandments would surely serve us well in the 21st Century.